


Together at the Top of the World

by lewin



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 12:51:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/478731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lewin/pseuds/lewin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally a fill for Livejournal kink meme. Though it's very much gen.</p>
<p>Prompt: Future!fic, set ~10 years later. They succeeded as professional basketball players, but they were the only ones. Or "How the MiraGen members came back where they should always have been - together at the top of the world".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Together at the Top of the World

_**A dream come true for the pride of a nation!**_

Riko snapped her cell phone shut, her eyes turning back to the young, aspiring basketball players practicing on the court before her. They were so young, so eager, so spirited, and she couldn't help but remember a time when a  _different_  set of young, spirited teenagers had practiced here, running drills at her command.

The world had been blown away by a single match, and expectations for the next generation of Japanese basketball players so much different now, higher, than before. Six people were responsible for that change. Six people and their pink-haired manager. And one of them used to practice here.

Dragging her mind away from the bolded headline of the news article just waiting to be read, Riko focused her concentration back on the present. This year's Seirin starters were promising, but still very green. It was up to her to whip them into shape.

The Winter Cup was coming.

 

 

 

_**Teammates from middle school, united again, conquers the world!**_

Kasamatsu sighed as he continued on his morning commute. Japan was all abuzz with the latest news: America's domination streak in the FIBA World Championships finally broken by, of all countries,  _Japan_. 

Every news station had covered the story, the story of how a group of geniuses conquered Japan, then Asia, and finally, the world. The Generation of Miracles, united once more, had brought Japanese basketball to the forefront of global attention.

Basketball had never been more popular.

As the subway door slid shut, pressed up against throngs of other normal, Japanese salarymen like himself, Kasamatsu remembers the face of a certain underclassman with a penchant for grinning cheekily at him.

He remembers the feeling of that dyed blond head meeting his foot.

 

 

 

_**The new national champions, Japan's rising suns!**_

Takao casually leans out the window and shouts, "Hurry up rookie, I don't have all day!"

A muffled shout, then a curse, followed by the distinct sound of boxes crashing to the floor is his response. He leans back into the worn leather seat and sighs, knowing he's going to be kept waiting a while.

The down time isn't unwelcomed. It's been a hectic past few days, but extremely good for business. The demand for alcoholic beverages to be delivered apparently increases dramatically when celebrating the unexpected victory of Japan over America in basketball.

Who knew so many people watched international basketball?

As a bespectacled boy totters into the seat beside him with a long string of apologies, so very different from another self-confident, arrogant boy he used to drive around, Takao grins and starts the engine.

It's a busy day for Hawk-Eye Deliveries.

 

 

 

_**Exclusive interview with the five most eligible geniuses of the year!**_

"Order for table 5!" one Sakurai Ryou yells back, adding a final touch of spice before handing the plate off to the waiter. He wipes the back of his hand across his forehead, taking a deep breath as the sounds of the kitchen continue to bustle around him. It wasn't easy getting this job, and while each day leaves him exhausted, he's happy.

Not the same exhaustion that comes with six consecutive hours of running around dribbling and shooting on a court, and perhaps not the same joy that comes with defeating a strong opponent after four intense quarters, but he's content.

The thought takes him back to his high school days, when he stammered apologies left and right, made honey soaked lemons despite that being the manager's job, and nothing mattered more than the sound of the ball swishing through the net.

"Sakurai, do I pay you to daydream, or do I pay you to cook? Get moving!"

This snaps him out of his daze, and face flaming, Ryou ducks his head as familiar apologies come gushing out. He thinks of the magazine, the _embarrassingly pink_  magazine he bought just this morning, and flushes even more.

Sparing one final thought for the familiar, dark-skinned face on the cover, he goes back to work.

 

 

 

**_After the fierce battle, our victorious heroes return home!_**

Himuro Tatsuya twirled his pen and let his gaze wander away from the textbook and notes in front of him. Grad school was challenging, but dull. At least, much duller than the excitement that happened three days ago.

His eyes landed on the ticket stub, on the red letters spelling out "FIBA WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP" in a bold font. It had been an intense and exciting match, both teams giving it their all, and while most of the audience was stunned by the result, _he_ never had any doubts on who the final victors would be.

To say they were impressive as a team would be an understatement; the experience and growth each player gained during their high school years combined with the knowledge and teamwork ingrained during their middle school years made their plays an art to watch.

But it was a close match nonetheless. The American team wasn't hailed as former world champions for nothing. The scores had been pretty even throughout the match, up until the last few seconds.

During the seconds before the final whistle as the ball bounced precariously on the hoop, at the moment it transformed into the winning shot, he recalls looking down at the face of an old teammate, and smiles. The normally disinterested and distantly bored expression had been replaced by completely different one, one alight with joy.

Himuro holds on to that memory, adds it to his collection of three intense years of battles on the court, of sweat and tears and victories hard earned. But that stroll down memory lane would have to be put off to another day.

He had an exam to study for.

 

 

 

**_The dream-team of the century!_**

Akashi Seijuuro smiles at the flashing cameras as he makes his way towards the awards podium, confident, proud, and knowing his team, his handpicked team, followed behind him.

The match was close, closer than he had expected, but their victory was preordained before they stepped on the court. They weren't taken very seriously in the beginning, especially since Tetsuya, still the shortest of them all, was in the starting lineup.

But Tetsuya went on to shock everyone in the opening play, his invisible passes and vanishing drives quickly helping them gain the lead. Ryouta followed up by wowing the crowd and opposition alike, copying and improving upon every special move used against them in an effort to overturn the tide. Shintarou, having dragged a three foot teddy bear to the match, proceeded to shoot with deadly accuracy, utilizing his full-court range to increase their score 3 points at a time. Daiki pushed past the Americans' strongest defenses while scoring in impossible positions, completely in the zone. Atsushi towered above everyone, blocking shots and catching rebounds, uncharacteristically focused. And with the help of Satsuki's expert data analysis, victory was never a question.

And finally, the vision he had seen since middle school, the reason he sent them all to separate schools during high school, the team he reunited in their college years, everything was coming together at last. He lowers his head as a medal is placed around his shoulders, looking over at his chosen generals, all of them standing together.

 

_Together at the top of the world._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Kagami flips open his cellphone upon hearing the familiar buzz of an incoming text. The sender was a name he had not spoken in years, no subject, and in the body, just two words.

_We won._

__He smiles, wondering how they got ahold of this number, and continues on his way.

 

 

 

**End.**


End file.
